The Patient
by Zpan Sven
Summary: Post issue-49 dDrabble . Spoilers ahead. Erwin Smith is in recovery.


Disclaimer: I do not own SnK/AoT. I own the nurse though.

Warnings: VERY Spoilerific for Chapter 49!

Poor Commander Erwin… the entire chapter should have been called "Erwin Smith is a badass".

I wrote this in like…30 minutes with no beta? So it probably contains errors…

—-

The sight of the leader of humanity's strongest and their last hope against the Titan laying there on the medical cot made the nurse's stomach drop. She had thought she had been prepared when the doctor directed her into the room but…

He was pale and his body swathed in grimy battlefield bandages, the sheet covering him wadded around his hips. Already there were signs of a fever, the way the sweat was gleaming on his face and he visible portions of his chest – with the conditions of the battlefield, its distance from civilization, there was already an infection setting in. Involuntarily her eyes dropped to the bandages on the remains of his right arm.

So it was true, Commander Smith was…

…alive.

He was alive and that was what mattered, the young nurse forcibly reminded herself as she stepped forward in the private room. And no matter what, he had to stay alive – the morale of not just his own unit, but all of humanity would fall to a place it might not recover from. This was a man respected and even adored for what he represented.

There was a detachment between her racing thoughts and her steady hands as she began to tend to him, methodically stripping away the battlefield dressed bandages. The wound was remarkably well-tended, given the situation – it was very likely Hanji Zoe's work. She didn't know, she wasn't high enough up on the chain of command to be told of the exact details of what had happened.

The whispers she had heard though… Attacking the armored Titan with only one arm to regain his kidnapped subordinate… It was something she could believe, she mused as she wiped away the accumulated sweat and grime, mindful of the blotchy, colorful bruising that was peppered across his body.

He was strong and would pull through and even if he wasn't on the field, he would still work to save humanity from the Titan threat. That reassurance kept her hands steady as she cleaned his wounds and packed them with healing poultices to draw out the lingering infection. With fresh bandages she began to redress his injuries as the doctor stopped in to check on Commander Smith's progress.

Keeping their voices pitched softly so not to disturb him, the medical staff discussed his condition while she continued to bandage his wounds – the prognosis was fair and once his fever broke, he'd be on a more solid path to recovery. Checking over her work as the doctor departed, she smiled faintly in satisfaction before carefully stripping away the dirty sheets from the cot.

She was much stronger than she looked – all nurses were, to be able to do their job. Aware of the theory those in an unconscious state could hear what was going around them, she began to tell him about what she knew of the aftermath. It primarily consisted of the conditions of his subordinates and colleagues, but she thought he might like to hear it; the young nurse was known for her gentle way of speaking and her soft tone of voice.

Once the bed was remade, she gently tucked the clean sheets around the Commander and fluffed his pillow. Gathering up the dirtied bandages and sheets, she set them aside into a basket before she began to clean and sanitize the room; as she did, the topics shifted, switching to the latest gossip and weather. With the crisp and slightly citrusy scent of the sanitizing cleaner in the air, she swept the room briskly; the swoosh-swoosh of the broom blended with the faint swishing of her calf-length skirt and petticoats, light footsteps where the hard sole of her shoes met the stone floor, and the soft drone of her voice.

Ambient noise was far superior to stifling silence for the patient, she was certain…that and she couldn't stand the quiet; it was unnerving, combined with the fact of whom her patient was. Commander Smith was an icon, and legend. He was so popular they used his – and also Commander Dawk's and various other famous military men like Lance Corpral Levi – image on the covers of the little romance novels so popular among the female population.

Not that she read them, of course. Why would one think that? She should change the hiding spot of her stash or her sister or father might find them and then she'd be teased mercilessly…

With her task done, she inspected the room for any speck of wayward dirt or lint before smiling. She checked on the patient's condition once more and found him resting comfortably still before picking up the basket of dirty linens.

"I'll be back shortly, Commander," she informed him softly before turning away and exiting the hospital room, the hems of her long skirt and petticoats swishing about her calves.


End file.
